


Hesitating - DNF

by brighteclipse



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), dreamnotfound - Fandom
Genre: ADHD, Best Friends, Face Reveal, First Gay Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gay Panic, Insomnia, Inspired by Real Events, Internalized Homophobia, LGBTQ Themes, Lime, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, Suggestive Themes, but no smut, long distance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:42:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27650201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brighteclipse/pseuds/brighteclipse
Summary: If George knew one thing for certain, it was that Clay was his best friend. But when Clay reveals his face to him, George's far from perfect response tears a hole in the veil he put up to disguise their playful banter and late night giggles. Will George be able to come to terms with the feelings that bubble up inside of him? Watch as George struggles with his internalized homophobia and insomnia that wreaks havoc in his life. When the pressure increases during an in-person meetup, will George take the initiative or will he hesitate?----------George’s heart pounded. The smell of an unfamiliar detergent itched his nose, and George ached for something familiar, something that felt like home. Something soft and gentle like a loving hand stroking his cheek, like a voice that put his feet back to the ground, like a warm smile or giggle.----------This was inspired by Dream and George's "Terms and Conditions" stream that stressed us all out. This will be removed if Dream and George state they are no longer okay with being shipped, because I am writing about their real life beings.
Relationships: Clay | Dream / GeorgeNotFound, Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 145
Kudos: 542





	1. Conditions

**Author's Note:**

> This is a place for me to put my own personal fanfic to get out my feelings. I am in college, so updates will be sporadic.
> 
> Leave comments for suggestions, recommendations, or critiques <3

“I will tell you I love you only – “

“- with meaning!” Clay interjected.

George rolled his eyes, adjusting his headphones behind one of his ears. “I will tell you I love you _with meaning.”_ He stared into the camera, eyebrows raised. “Only if you show me your face under the agreed upon conditions.”

Clay scoffed, “You are an idiot, but I’m calling you now.”

George’s eyes flickered from his phone to Dream’s yellow body on his glowing monitor. He cleared his throat and repositioned himself in his chair before wiping his damp hands on his sweatpants. Clay’s soft breathing echoed through George’s headphones and into his pounding chest. His phone flashed open with an abrupt buzz.

George answered, searching the dark screen for traces of facial features. “Dream!” he said, shaking his head, and tossed phone down on his desk, “I knew you weren’t going to do it.” A cold tremor cooled his warm cheeks. “Why can’t you just show me?” He asked, forcing a laugh.

“Well, why can’t you tell me you love me?” Clay snapped. “I tell you I love you all the time, Georgieeeee.” George winced with each word piercing through his headphones. “Don’t you care about me enough to tell me?”

“You don’t even care enough about me to show me what you look like.” George responded, his voice quivering. He rubbed his face with his palm to steady the shaking. George glanced at his chat, streams of "TELL HIM" and hearts sped across his gaze.

“Well it’s not my fault that you care about looks, and I care about love.” Clay’s voice cut into silence, and his yellow glowing figure disappeared from the screen.

The quiet sickened George’s stomach. “Looks like today isn’t the day guys,” George mumbled, fumbling to turn off twitch. “Maybe in tomorrow’s stream.” George paused, lips quivering. “Thanks for the awesome stream!” The monitor in front of him went dark.

George leaned back into his chair; the straining plastic filled the silence. "Shit." He dropped the headphones onto the carpet, pushed his keyboard to the side, and collapsed onto the desk. "Why the f-" George squeezed his eyes shut tight, burying his face into his arms, and heat rose to his cheeks.

"I-" The words swirled in George's stomach, like butterflies pushing their way out of his mouth. "I _do_ like you." They fell quickly off his lips, tasted like honey on his tongue. George took a gulp of water to wash the taste away. "I do like him. _Obviously_. He is my best friend." George leaned back once more, taking a slow breath in, and grabbed his phone.

_are you okay? I didn't mean to make you upset._

Clay opened the message and George watched the bubble disappear without a response.

_you know how I am on stream. I'm sorry. call me please_

No response. The taste of honey sank like a rock in his stomach. "fuuuuck," George groaned, "why can't I just fucking SAY IT." George lifted himself from his chair and ruffled his hair. His phone lit up and George's eyes shot to the screen - a text from Nick. George sighed, but picked up the phone. It was 4:48am. He felt heavy but carried himself to the bathroom and stripped the suddenly uncomfortable clothing from his body. The hot water pelted his skin, and George left the shower feeling lighter. As George dried his hair with the towel, his phone buzzed wildly. A video call from Clay. George took a double take. _A video call?_

George wrapped the towel around his waist and declined the video call, but immediately called Clay back.

"Why did you decline my call?" Clay asked. His voice was soft. It was about midnight.

"I'm naked. So, unless you had different intentions for this call than I anticipated, I decided it was for the best."

Clay laughed, "a tragic missed opportunity."

"You are so stupid. But really - a video call?"

"I was going to hold up my end of the bargain."

George paused. "You don't have to."

"Why won't you say you love me, George? It's just a dumb joke."

George glanced at his reflection in the mirror. "I dunno. Its _awkward._ " He rubbed his face roughly with his free hand. "even if it is a joke." George spoke quietly; the words felt like sharp pebbles.

"And maybe you are right."

"Right about what?"

Clay paused and George could hear his deep breath. "I don't know. It's awkward to show you my face."

"I know its probably scary to show someone so handsome your face, but its okay Clay. I won't judge you."

Clay chuckled, "you're an idiot. that's definitely not the reason."

"Then what is the reason? and I'm being serious this time."

Clay hesitated.

"Hey, why don't I call you back in a minute after I get out of the bathroom." George said, sensing Clay's discomfort.

"Yeah, that would be fine. Seeya Gogy."

George grinned, "Bye Dreamy."


	2. Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All these chapters are going to be short probably. sorry if you don't like that! Also, I am adjusting to writing fan fiction (this is the first one ever), so I am also sorry if I am inconsistent!

“Are you trying to sleep on call?”

George snorted, “No, idiot. I’m not in bed.” George shifted his weight in his chair gingerly and pulled the blanket around his shoulders closer to his chest, careful to not disturb the white and grey pile of fur in his lap. “I’m in my chair with my cat.”

“Damn it, George. I thought there was something between us!”

“Oh my God.” George shook his head with a grin on his face.

“I’m in bed,” Clay replied before yawning. “and also with my cat.”

“Is she on your lap?”

“I wish. She has decided that the left side of my face is a comfortable pillow.”

“I’m jealous,” but Clay began to wheeze before George could finish. “Oh my God, Clay.” George interjected, “That’s not what I meant.”

“You want to sit on my face!” Clay’s words fizzled out into kettle noises of laughter.

George’s cheeks flushed red. “No, I want my cat to cuddle with my face!”

“Suuuure Gogy, but I know what you really meant.”

“You would like that wouldn’t you?” George teased, attempting to recover from his slip up.

“Your ass? Absolutely.”

Clay’s laughter filled George’s dark room. George swiveled his chair away from his computer and propped his legs onto the foot of his bed. He sunk back into his chair and let Dream’s deep chuckles and airy wheezes find their way to the honey on his lips. George burst into giggles and both the boy’s laughter rang loud.

“George?” Clay asked, interrupting their sleepy laughter.

George leaned his head against his hand. Clay’s sudden gentle intensity stirred the butterflies in his stomach. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about earlier.” Clay laid the phone on the pillow beside him and stared at the ceiling. “I wasn’t going to scam you, but when you picked up the video call on stream, I got too nervous and couldn’t do it.”

“It’s okay.” George said gently. “Seriously, Clay. If you don’t want to show me your face, you don’t have to.”

George paused and listened to Clay’s steady breathing. in. out. in. out.

“I do want to show you.”

“You can trust me. I -- ” George paused. “You are my best friend.”

_Incoming video call_

George’s breath hitched and his finger fumbled to hit the button. The video screen was dark, but Clay’s ceiling fan whirred in the center of the screen. It was silent.

“Oh God, why do I feel so nervous,” Clay mumbled.

“Forgot about showing me your face.” George said, “Show me Patches. I’m sure my cat wants to see her.” George lifted the fuzzy ball from his lap to his cheek. “Can you see us, Clay?” George grinned to the camera. Clay’s hand flopped onto the phone and picked it up. George’s heart pounded in his chest.

The screen focused on Patches curled into Dream’s neck. George’s eyes locked onto Dream’s, and George licked his lips – honey. The heat on his cheeks rose as he tracked the features on Dream’s face. Clay grinned, “Your cat does not look happy.”

George watched Clay’s lips move with each word, and he shifted in his chair uncomfortably, suddenly warm.

Clay dropped his grin. “Well?” he asked nervously, bringing his hand to ruffle through his dirty blond hair.

“You look - ” George stuttered, eyes lost in the sea of freckles kissed on Clay’s cheeks. _So pretty_. “fine.”

Clay coughed. “just fine?” He chewed on the inside of his lip.

George watched Clay’s face contort with worry. “Yeah” he responded, a sickness growing his stomach as the butterflies fought to burst out of him.

The phone dropped back down to the pillow. “I think I am going to go.” Clay mumbled.

“No, please.” George grimaced, “I’m sorry, Clay. I don’t mean to say you look - ”

 _Click_ and silence.

“Ohhh fuck.” George groaned. _I’m so fucking stupid._

George's phone lit up again - another text from Nick. George groaned.

_4:48 am - Dude, are you good?_

_6:12 am - George?_

_Yeah, I'm fine. Clay called me and showed me his face._

_Epic! Did you tell him you loved him? haha_

_no and I fucked it up. I said he looked fine and he hung up with me._

_ohhhh shit. Did you give him a weird look? idiot_

_I don't think so._ _I feel bad_

George stood from the chair, pulling his shirt off, and slid into his bed.

_don't worry about it man. Clay will bounce back._

George's stomach sank as he put his phone on the side table. He rubbed his eyes with his hand. _I hope so._


	3. Distance

George moved around the kitchen, hovering around the pans sizzling on the stove. The smell of sausage and eggs wafted throughout the small space. He enjoyed having the house to himself as his mother was out on a weekend vacation, but was hesitant to move out on his own. The feeling of being home kept him tethered to his mother’s house, and she appreciated his company. George gathered his food on his plate, glancing over at his phone. The string of text messages he had sent Clay had yet to be answered. 

He sat on a stool in front of the counter and stared at his meal - A piece of sausage, one egg, and cooked spinach - which was less than his usual breakfast. George ate slowly and attempted to focus on Nick’s speedrunning twitch stream.

Becoming restless, George clicked through his open tabs. He lingered on British Airways, staring at the London to Texas flight on Wednesday. He rubbed his face with his hands roughly. _Should I be doing this?_ He clicked away nervously, turning back to Nick.

Nick ran through savannahs, jumped into desert temples, explored the nether, and navigated through the stronghold, but his movements became one amidst the donations and singing. George found himself staring blankly at the screen, watching Nick blur by.

“Don’t worry, I will help you out.” George focused on the screen, Clay’s voice pulling him from his daze.

“I am getting super unlucky with the strongholds.” Nick mentioned.

“Yeah, sometimes that just happens.” Clay replied. 

George picked up his phone, pulling his focus from his half-finished plate. No texts from Clay, but a text from Nick an hour ago.

_I’m streaming, wanna get on discord?_

George listened to Clay and Nick intently. Clay’s laughter and jokes made George’s heart swell, but the unanswered text messages left a sour taste in his mouth. He texted Nick back.

_Can I still come? Ask clay_

“Gogy wants to come on the discord.” Nick said while hitting an iron golem with an axe. “Should we let him join, Dream?”

Clay paused, and Nick killed the golem. “Ooh lucky. You got 5 iron - maybe this is your run.” Clay said, “and yeah.” He coughed uncomfortably. “George can join.”

George took one last large bite of breakfast and leaped from the chair. He put the plate in the fridge and bolted to his room. His keyboard clacked wildly as he entered the discord. 

“- worst at uploading, Sapnap. ” Clay’s voice rang clear through George’s headphones and he took a deep breath. 

“Maybe, but I stream the most.” Nick quipped, “Gogy is the worst. He doesn’t stream or upload.”

“I do!” George responded, “I literally streamed yesterday, Sapnappy”.

Clay snorted, but George could sense the tension over the call. Nick ignored the comment and continued his run. Clay was quieter than normal, so Nick and George quipped back and forth. George bit his lip, pausing, and looked at Clay’s icon on discord nervously.

A donation filled the silence: _Never seen 3 pretty best friends. Always one of them gotta be ugly._

“Sapnap has that covered for us.” George retorted. He listened carefully for Clay. 

“You aren’t the pretty one either, idiot” Nick quipped. 

“Well, it’s either me or you.” George said, “Because it’s definitely not Dream.” His mind wandered to Clay’s face from last night. He traced Clay’s lips and jawline in his memory. _So soft._ His eyes staring back at George intently. George coughed, expelling the picture from his head.

“Truuuuue.” Nick said, “Dream is a snack. I’d take a side of Dream with a juicy Subway sandwich right now.” 

Clay wheezed, “Yeah right.” George smiled and relaxed back into his chair, thankful for Nick’s jokes. 

“It’s true, chat. That’s why Dream can’t ever do a face reveal. He’s too se-” George stopped, his sudden burst of confidence disappearing. George bit his lip and took a quick breath. “He’s too sexy.”

“WhaaaaAAAAT. ” Clay yelled, his laughter continuing. George smiled, the heat rising to his cheeks.

“Wowwww chat, we have a Dream simp in this Discord,” Nick said. 

‘Gogy Simp’ filled the chat, but George didn’t mind. They spent the remainder of the stream goofing off and watching Nick speedrun. Although Nick hadn’t been successful, they turned off the stream with smiles, lingering in the discord call.

“Is everything set for Thursday, Clay?” Nick asked.

“Yes.” Clay said through stretching groans. “My guest room is sparkling clean for you. I spent the last few nights on my knees if you know what I mean.”

“You would.” Nick said,“and George is a loser stuck in London.”

“To be fair, flying to Florida from London is a bit more of a hassle than from Texas to Florida.” George responded.

“We will watch a movie and cuddle.‘ Nick continued.

“Slow down, Nick.” Clay responded, laughing. “I don’t know about that. But we will definitely stream together. That will be fun.” Clay paused. “And George can join.”

After a few more minutes of banter, Clay left the discord call, leaving Nick and George. 

“Are you excited to spend a whole day with me?” George asked.

“Oh, I can hardly wait.”

“Remember I arrive at noon on Wednesday.”

“Yes, yes Gogy. I will be waiting for you.” Nick said, “and then we will go to Whataburger.” He laughed, “Clay is going to be shocked.”

“Honestly, I’m a bit nervous - especially after yesterday.” George chewed on the inside of his lip, his heart pounding thinking about knocking on Clay’s front door. His mind wandered once more to their call - Clay’s collarbones and half-smile released the butterflies in his stomach. _Or more than a bit nervous... because he is my best friend.  
_

“Clay seemed fine on stream today, but you should call him.”

George leaned back in his chair. “I’ll do that.” He looked at his texts to Clay still unanswered and sighed. “Anyways, I am going to go.”

“Peace, dude.” Nick said

“Seeya!” George left the call and stood, stretching his back after the 3 hour stream. He smiled thinking about their banter, relieved that Clay seemed to have bounced back. His stomach grumbled, and George turned to the door to get some lunch. 

_Ding!_

A text - from Clay.


	4. Reconcillation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Thank you to everyone who has been so supportive of this fanfic. It is really encouraging, and I appreciate everyone bearing with me as I figure this all out.
> 
> 2\. I changed references from Dream to Clay and Sapnap to Nick, because I felt it was more fitting. I apologize if this is a weird switch :) I went back and changed the first 3 chapters as well.

_ Can we call? _

George took a slow deep breath.  _ Yes. is it okay if I eat lunch?  _ He wandered into his kitchen.

_ Yes, i’m also eating lunch. You must be eating late.  _ Clay responded immediately.

George smiled and pulled pasta leftovers from the fridge, popping them into the microwave. He sat down at the table in his kitchen with his meal and called Clay. George’s eyes flickered between the counter and his phone screen.

“Hey.” Clay said, his face popping onto the screen. He spoke softly, his shoulders slumping back into the couch where he sat.

“I’m sorry.” George said. “I was taken off guard, honestly.” Clay waited for George to continue. “I’ve never had had anyone do a face reveal. It was strange.”

Clay nodded, “I get it, and I am not upset at you.” The words lifted a weight off George’s shoulders. He sat up, resting his elbows on his knees. Clay grinned and winked at George, “I took your breath away.”

Heat rose to George’s cheeks, but he shook his head, “Alright, settle down.” George replied, pulling his eyes from the phone screen. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly for a moment to clear his head. 

“Everyone wants me to do a face reveal, but I don’t know if I am ready.” Clay bit his lip, “I could hardly show you, and you are my best friend.”

“You did show me though. And even though I acted like a fool, you showed me again.” George gestured to the phone screen. He took a bite of his pasta.

“I even dressed up for you.” Clay said, “Do you notice anything?” He propped himself parallel to the camera, pulling his sweatshirt for George to see.

“I didn’t know you had the blue version.” George said, noticing his merch. “Didn’t I send you the grey one?”

“Yes, but I got the blue myself. They are comfortable.” Clay sank back into the couch. “I didn’t really dress up, though. I’ve been wearing this all morning.”

“Oh?” George said, raising an eyebrow. “I bet you sleep in my clothes.”

Clay laughed. “It’s true. What am I supposed to do when we aren’t talking? I miss you.” 

Both boys took bites of their food over laughter. George watched Clay from the corner of his eye. The sweatshirt hung gently on his broad shoulders, and George’s eyes were drawn to Clay’s chest. His neck. His lips. 

George pulled away again, shaking his head. “Clay, you - ” George said, his voice strained. Clay looked up, mid-bite. George continued cautiously. “You are my best friend” he said in an attempt to remind himself of the obvious and quickly redirected his thoughts. “Maybe that’s why doing a face reveal was scary.” 

Clay looked at George with a head tilt and eyebrow raise. George smiled - his new puppy does the same when he holds a treat above her head. “You care what I think about you. But maybe showing millions of people what you look like will be easier because - ” George paused. “They aren’t like me.”

Clay thought about it for a moment. “Maybe.” He took another bite of the piece of pizza in his hand. “But I’m still nervous.”

“Why?”

Clay shifted, “Same reason I hung up with you last night.” He smiled weakly and set down the pizza. 

“I felt really dumb after that.” George said, “I knew you were anxious about showing me your face, but I did not respond in the right way. I really am sorry.” He looked at Clay who took a slow deep breath. “Seriously, Clay. You do not need to be worried about what you look like.” George felt the butterflies in his stomach fighting to escape from his lips.

“How can you be so sure?”

George chewed on his lip, searching Clay’s face. His eyebrows were furrowed, lips pressed tightly together. George tasted honey. “You are good looking.” George said carefully, “better than me at least and everyone already knows what I look like. So you are safe.”

Clay laughed gently, “Simp.” He ruffled his hands through his hair. “And thanks. I appreciate the reassurance, but don’t say I’m better looking than you.” Clay’s comment took George off guard. They both spoke softly, with careful intimacy. Clay’s normal complements under the guise of a joke were easy to brush off, but Clay’s words now made George’s heart pound. Clay continued, “and I’m not just saying that because I think I’m ugly.” 

George felt his breath quicken and watched Patches jump onto Clay’s lap. “Patches looks cozy – I’m a little jealous.” He paused, searching Clay’s face, his heart pounding. “I guess.”

Clay snorted, “No way you want to cuddle with me more than Patches does.” He leaned over and nuzzled his face into Patches’ body. 

George bit his lip to prevent himself from grinning, feeling a sudden burst of confidence. “You should come over and find out.” George’s brows furrowed, expecting his words to feel like a joke coming from his lips. 

Clay looked up and grinned, imitating George’s accent. “Okay, London boy.” George rolled his eyes, and Clay continued, but dropped the accent. “We could find out if you came to visit me with Nick.”

“Yeah, sorry about. My mom decided the worst week to take a vacation.”

“Nick and I will call you, and we will definitely stream.”

“I am looking forward to doing that! Chat is going to go crazy when they find out you two are together. Will Nick do a facecam?”

“He wants to. I could do a face reveal or I could just be off to the side.”

“That will really make the chat go crazy. And Twitter too.”

“I would do facecam if you were with me. I’d feel better about being with you.” Clay paused. “Being with both of you.”

George smiled, “Whatever you do, I promise I will be right next to you supporting you.”

“- on Discord.” Clay interjected.

“Right - ” George paused, glancing at the computer besides his phone. “- on Discord.”


	5. Departures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for all your comments and bookmarks. <3 I so appreciate it

George twirled the string of his green hoodie in his fingers, regretting the bold outfit choice. The tall, lanky green figure clumsily navigated among the bustling airport, working his way towards airport screening. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, staring back out the doors to the early morning sky - the sun had even yet to rise. Although it had only been a few months since the Dream Team became popularized, George prepared to encounter people who recognized him.

George funneled into the screening. He removed his shoes and pulled the green sweater off. The cool burst of air peaked his attention, and George felt his drowsiness fall. The sweater, patterned with Dream’s logo, was becoming a regret. Surely, if someone didn’t recognize him, they would recognize Dream’s face and George’s identity would soon follow. 

It was many months ago - one of Luca’s first vet visits where George was noticed in public for the first time. George had walked through the door of the veterinarian's office, his speckled cat in his arms, signed into the front desk, and sat down in the waiting room. Luca meowed in defiance against the uncomfortable collar hanging from his neck - a vet necessity. George pet his cats fur gently, hoping to calm the agitation, when he heard a soft gasp across the room. 

George looked up. 

It was a small boy, no older than 12, sitting next to his mom who held a cage with a yellow bird. George pursed his lips.  _ What is wrong with the bird? _ He looked to the boy whose black curly hair fell around his widened eyes, like he had just seen a ghost, and George smiled.

The boy gasped again, pulling on his mother’s pale orange sleeve. George raised an eyebrow, watching from the corner of his eye. The mother and boy whispered in each other's ears, glancing at George. George coughed and rubbed his face with his hand, in an attempt to rid his face of whatever food or mark may have caused the ruckus. 

George heard his name from across the room, and he looked over to the boy once more.  _ Does he recognize me? _

Confident it was simply a coincidence, George turned away after giving the boy another polite smile. Though, seconds later, the boy scurried over across the room and stood inches from George’s face.

The boy stammered, avoiding George’s eye contact. “You are George!” he managed to get out, twisting his arms between his back. 

George smiled and laughed. “Yeah, I am!” he replied, surprised, “Who are you?” Luca fussed in George’s lap, pulling away from the sudden stranger.

“Xavier.” The boy paused, “Can I pet your cat?”

George complied, and the boy plopped himself next to the cat, giving Luca heavy handed pets. Luca accepted the clumsy love, rubbing his head into the child’s hand. 

“Do you watch our Minecraft videos?” George asked. 

“Yes!!” Xavier exclaimed. He looked at George, eyes wide and sparkling, “You are so awesome! I love watching you and Dream. When I play minecraft, I try - ”

George and Xavier chatted about Minecraft until Luca’s name was called for his appointment. He left Xavier after giving him a hug and taking a quick photo, and walked into the back room beaming. 

From that day, George had continued to get recognized in person more often. His normal grocery stores and favorite restaurants became places to meet people who enjoyed the Dream Team content. While kind and generous donations are meaningful, getting to talk with fans whose eyes lit up while talking about Minecraft made George smile. 

Despite the wholeness that filled George when meeting a fan, he often looked to find places where he would be unrecognizable. Being an introvert by nature, George strived to find quiet places to be. Unfortunately, George’s wardrobe choice to the airport had seemingly defeated that purpose. 

He opted to stuff the sweater into his backpack before sliding on a pair of headphones. George wandered through the airport, letting Travis Scott occupy his mind. The words took the place of the anxiety that filled his mind, and George texted Nick.

_ im through airport screening and i found my gate _

_ Cool! Crazy it’s like a whole day flight. I will pick you up tomorrow. _

_ clay better appreciate the whole 12 hours I am spending in the air for him _

_ Well, I appreciate it! We can finally settle whose taller. _

George smiled. This was also the first time he got to meet Nick. George settled into a chair by his gate and looked at the time - 4:45am. An hour until his flight took off. 

_ it’s definitely me. _

_ Well, whoever it is, it's a win-win for you. Either you are taller or you get to be the small spoon. ;) _

George laughed, shaking his head. Before he could respond, Nick replied again. 

_ Anyway, knowing that you are in the airport is enough for me. I’m gonna sleep before I come pick you up. _

George quickly responded and set his phone beside him. His eyes lingered on his phone - It was midnight for Clay. George sank into his chair, pulling the sweater from his bag to serve as a blanket. He stared out the large glass windows, looking at the reflections of the people sitting around him. 

His eyes darted from person to person, from the lady with long peppery hair eating whole carrots to a toddler who smooshed their face into their older sibling’s cheek. He lingered on a couple a few rows behind him. Their sweatshirts and blankets intertwined, fingers interlaced. The woman’s head nestled into her partner's neck. 

George’s mind drifted away. The couple’s jumbled sweatshirts became Clay’s wrinkled blanket, tucked underneath his arms. Patches was nestled into Clay’s neck. George’s mind traced the neckline of Clay’s shirt. It looked worn, like it had been slept in a million times. 

_ It must be soft. _

Clay’s hand rubbed Patches’ chin. His fingers, gentle and slender, reached out to George’s face. George leaned gently forward, hungry to meet Clay half way. As Clay’s hand reached George’s cheek, George jerked his head and blew away the hazy cloud. The dark window re-focused in his line of sight, pulling him from the trance. 

George swallowed hard and grounded his feet on the carpeted floor, rubbing his face with his hands. He grabbed his phone, turning the music up. Images of Clay swirled in George’s mind.

“Welcome ladies and gents to British Airways flight 374 to Texas. Boarding will now begin. Those who have children under the age of 5 or have priority boarding, please approach the front desk.”

The intercom made George jump, though it was a welcome interruption. The people filed through the small walkway to the plane tarmac. Each person shuffled through, groggily smiling at the man checking the tickets. George soon followed, walking through the first class rows to his economy seat. 

George sat heavily besides the window and stared out the thick pane. The sun had barely begun to rise. He squinted, shielding his eyes from the sky beginning to hue orange and pink. George sunk into the seat, shifting uncomfortably. The plane filled slowly, but George was left alone in his row. 

George stared at the buildings as they grew tiny amidst the hazy London fog. He glanced nervously at his phone, the reality of his journey sinking in. He sipped in a deep breath, but the music filling his ears no longer cleared his mind.

He turned off Travis Scott and rummaged through his bag, pulling out a bottle of sleeping pills. Although bodily tired, George knew his mind wouldn’t let him rest. After taking two, he forced his eyes shut, breathing in for 4 seconds, holding for 7 seconds, and exhaling for 8. George focused intently on his breath and the low rumble of the airplane before sinking heavily into his chair.

A bout of violent turbulence overrode the two sleeping pills, and George was knocked awake. His groans were drowned out by the airplane jets. 

“We apologize for the rocky flight. We will be hitting smooth air in the next minute. Your flight attendants will be around shortly to pass around snacks. We have about 8 hours remaining.”

George stretched his neck side to side, massaging the tight muscles from his cramped sleep. He extended his legs and kicked something hard in the process. 

A purple water bottle had rolled in front of his feet, no doubt because of the recent turbulence. The bottle was plastered with rainbow stickers. In particular, a geometric sticker colored blue and yellow caught his eye. 

George leaned over to the seat in front of him, tapping the person on their shoulder. The person whipped around, brows furrowed. 

“Is this yours?” George asked, holding up the water bottle. 

“Ohmygod.” The person, removing an earbud from their ear, whispered. “You are GeorgeNotFound.” 

George smiled and sighed, thankful for a momentary distraction. “I am! What is your name?”

“My name is Ali, but my pronouns are they/them.” The person responded, taking the water bottle from George. “Thanks for finding this by the way. I hadn’t noticed.” Ali smiled brightly, their black braids flowing with each movement. 

“I’m glad I could return it - it is important to stay hydrated.”

Ali and George quipped back and forth, chatting about the music George was listening to and the audio book Ali was reading, Ali’s recent embroidering escapade, and George’s new pets. 

“Are you visiting Sapnap?” Ali asked abruptly. 

George stammered, searching Ali’s face.  _ It’s too obvious, I can’t lie.  _ “Yes, but you can’t tell anyone until Friday. It’s supposed a surprise.” 

Ali agreed vehemently, “That’s cool. I don’t have a twitter, so I doubt it would get too far anyway. Your secret is safe with me.”

George thanked them. “Oh, I liked that blue and yellow sticker on your water bottle,” he continued.

“It’s actually blue, pink, and yellow.” Ali said, pointing to the sticker. “It is the pansexual pride colors, and I drew the sticker myself.” They paused. “Are you… ?” They pointed to the sticker again and back at George.

“No, no.” George persisted, “I’m not - ” He paused, chewing on his lip as images of Clay’s hand reaching out to him overwhelmed him. “I’m not gay.” The butterflies in George’s stomach flipped uncomfortably, and he shifted in his chair uneasily. “But the sticker is cool, ” he continued, changing the subject. 

They chatted briefly before turning back to their own seats. George pulled the sweater around him tight and squeezed his eyes shut. 

_ I’m not gay. _


	6. Unease

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of bullying based on sexuality 
> 
> hope everyone enjoys this chapter :)

George’s eyes darted from person to person as he lugged the large suitcase behind him. He swallowed dryly, scanning the crowd until Nick’s familiar face came into view. Nick continued looking - he hadn’t noticed George. George looked away, but walked towards him.

“George!” 

George locked eyes with Nick, feigning surprise, and a nervous grin spread across his face. Nick approached George with open arms, pulling him into a warm hug. 

Nick pushed George away by the shoulders, “It’s great to see you, dude,” but pulled him in again, his arms wound around George. “How was your flight?”

“It went well!” George said, returning the hug. He coughed and relaxed his shoulders back; Nick’s welcome almost felt like home. “Though, I didn’t get much sleep - I’m exhausted.”

They talked over each other, eager to share their travel stories. The drive home was equally as energetic, 21 Savage playing behind their laughter and loud voices. 

“I met a fan on the plane.” George mentioned. He flipped his phone around in his hands, his head resting lazily on the seat. The breeze from the window, cracked half open, washed over his face. He sighed, allowing the tension from his chest and shoulders to blow away with the wind. With the anxiety forgotten for a moment, George’s stomach growled.

Nick glanced over at George, eyebrowed raised, “Do they know you are visiting Dream? That could be a shitty way to ruin the surprise.” 

“Not Dream, just you.” Nick’s phone buzzed, interrupting George’s train of thought. “But, they seemed willing to keep it a secret.”

Nick pulled into the Whataburger drive through and put down the window. The oily smell sat heavily in the car, but made George’s stomach pang. The wait was slow, and George watched the employees inside the windows bustling around the hot kitchen. The boys then sat parked in the parking lot, downing the patty melts and fries that sat in the console between them. Nick’s phone buzzed once more, pausing the music blaring from the speakers. 

“Who’s that?” George asked between two large mouthfuls of fries. His stomach craved the salty treats - a hunger that had been absent for days. 

“Sunny.” Nick grabbed the phone, looking over the text. “She is the girl I’ve been talking to - I have mentioned her before, and she is watching our pets for the next week.”

“Your family isn’t home?”

“They decided if I get to have a vacation, so did they.” Nick paused to take a sip of his milkshake. “So I asked Sunny if she could watch our pets. She really likes Mogwai.”

“Is it getting pretty serious between you two?” George popped the top off of his milkshake, pulling the straw from the thick ice cream, and licked it clean. He tilted the cold drink into his mouth, greedily slurping it up.

Nick smiled, scratching the back of his head. “Well, I really like her. So we will see.” He polished off the remainder of his patty melt, turning his attention to his fries. “Have you been talking to anyone?”

George stammered. “Not really.” He swirled his fry in the milkshake, watching the ice crystals melt against the hot potato. Faintly, the sound of Clay’s laughter spun in his head.

“Not even anyone you are interested in?” Nick pressed, unconvinced. 

George took a slow sip from the milkshake. “Definitely not.” The icecream no longer felt cool, but like a sickly sweet syrup oozing into his stomach. He put the drink down, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. The food sat like a rock, and his limbs ached once more.

Nick crumpled up the oily wrappers, tossing them into the take out bag. “As your best friend, I know there is something you aren’t telling me, but because I am your best friend - ” Nick paused, looking over to George, “- I won’t push any more.” He extended the trash bag to George who threw away the last of the empty food containers. 

George stayed quiet, staring at the quickly passing scenery. He pulled his sweatshirt from his bag and propped it besides his neck. George let the slow hum of the car's engine relax his heavy limbs into sleep. He began to snore quietly, and Nick smiled before glancing over at George. George’s eyebrows were furrowed, his lips pressed tightly together. Nick sighed, worried.

Nick pulled into the driveway of his home, sneaking quietly around the car to bring all of George’s things inside. George’s 30 minute nap was restless - constant tossing, head jerking, inconsistent snoring. With a closer look, George had sullen bags underneath his eyes. Nick was hesitant to wake him. 

George jerked awake with a gasp when Nick touched his arm, and Nick jumped. “Oh fuck, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Nick apologized, “We made it home, though.”

George rubbed his eyes with his hand, stretching his aching neck and back. “No worries.” He smiled weakly. “Where are my bags?” George looked around at his feet, searching for his backpack.

“I got them for you already.” Nick took a deep breath. “And I am sure you are looking forward to our long drive tomorrow after this 24 hour journey..”

George groaned but smiled, “Oh God - don’t remind me.” 

Inside his home, Nick collapsed on the couch. George followed, sitting in a large recliner by an open window. The cool fall breeze wafted over his body. He felt heavy; his arms and legs melted into the chair. The sweet caress of the wind only served to bring attention to his achiness, the fogginess, the exhaustion. The patty melt and milkshake sloshed uneasily in his stomach, like all food had recently. George shifted uncomfortably; his skin felt sticky, covered in airport grime. A yawn crept from his toes to his head, but his mouth laid still. His phone buzzed, vibrating in his pocket. He had forgotten it was with him. A text from Clay - George’s stomach turned, the butterflies tossed his lunch side to side.

_ haven’t heard from you all day, London boy. you up for a stream? _

George gnawed his lip. It was salty.

_ i am editing the new video rn, sorry. maybe Nick will? _

_ maybe. call tonight though? _

Although not yet a reality, the prospect of talking to Clay put a smile on his face. George took a slow breath, taking in the cool outside air. “Nick, is there a good place for me to video call Clay that wouldn’t be super obvious?”

Nick turned to look at George, an eyebrow raised. “You are going to call Clay here?” 

“I need to act normal,” George shrugged, “otherwise he definitely will know something is amiss.”

“I didn’t know you video called that often, especially after last week.”

George paused and kneaded his left hand between the pointer finger and thumb. Heat rose to his cheeks. “We don’t call every night.” George’s voice raised, “and I don’t know if we will video call. It’s better to be prepared.”

“I was about to say - ” Nick laughed, though the high pitch chuckle made George wince. “ It sounded like you two were involved.”

George clenched his jaw. “That’s bullshit, and it’s not funny.”

Nick eyes widened, mouth parted. “Woah, I’m sorry, dude.” He shook his head, “I was just messing with you.”

George rubbed his warm face with his hands. “I know. I know.” He groaned, “I’m just so fuckin’ tired, and I need a shower bad.”

Nick giggled, “It’s true. I can smell you from here.”

“Whatever, idiot.” George scoffed, a grin peeking from his face, “You smell just as bad. Now show me to your shower.”

“Woah hold up, Gogy, ” Nick teased, “We aren’t going to shower together. It’s not like that between us.”

George rolled his eyes. 

The boys found themselves first in the kitchen, but George only nibbled on the leftovers Nick pulled from the refrigerator. He watched the sun disappear behind the tree lines, vaguely nodding and smiling in response to Nick’s rambling. 

The hot water filled the bathroom with thick steam. He stood still, letting the water hit his face. It washed the airport grime from his skin, but not the painful achiness of his body, not the intrusive thoughts that clouded his mind. Clay lips, parting with laughter, consumed him. The monotonous water pitter-patters only amplified the same images that flooded his mind at the airport. He squeezed his hands into tight fists, tensing his face.  _ I need to play some music. _ He shook his head violently to no avail.  _ I’m not gay.  _ George gave up, sitting heavily on the shower floor. The water dripped from his hair down his face. 

“Fuck,” George choked.

He rested his back against the cool tile, eyes closed. George fidgited uneasily. His head pounded and stomach turned, his thoughts fighting to be released.  _ I’m not gay. He is just my best friend. _

George’s lips stilled, parting in a whisper, “but maybe I am involved.”

He stared at the tile, the straight lines curling into swirls.  _ I am allowed to be involved with my best friend.  _

George pulled himself from the shower, dragging his body into clean clothes. He fell laboriously into the spare room bed, jet-lagged and exhausted. He stared at his phone - no notifications. It was only 8:00pm in Florida. Although Clay had forgone the evening stream, he wouldn’t call George for another 2 hours. George laid the phone down on the side table without setting an alarm - He wouldn’t fall asleep anyway.

George lay still on his back, his arms extended outwards. The fan blew cold air on his face, and goosebumps covered his body. Only 7 hours until they were back on the road again, driving an arduous 15 hours to Clay’s house. George’s heart pounded. The smell of an unfamiliar detergent itched his nose, and George ached for something familiar, something that felt like home. Something soft and gentle like a loving hand stroking his cheek, like a voice that put his feet back to the ground, like a warm smile or giggle.  _ I’m not gay. _

“I am not gay!”

_ Br-iiiiing _

The four minute warning bell. Only four more minutes until Mr. Sheffield would gather the boys from the changing room. George took a labored breath, shoulders square to the wall. He held his pale blue PE shirt close to his face, bracing himself. A rough hand gripped his arm, pulling him from the wall.

“I saw you fuckin lookin at me.” The boy growled, bringing his nose close to George.

George yanked his arm away, “I wasn’t, you bastard.”

The boy sneered, “I’ve heard a lot of rumors about you.” He spit on George’s bare chest before walking away. “You are disgusting.”

George lay still, his glassy eyes staring at the ceiling.  _ It’s not disgusting to be gay. _

_ But that is not what this is. _

His phone buzzed, Clay’s ringtone slicing through the thick haze. George gasped, sitting up. The cold air entered underneath the warm covers, but George grabbed his phone and retreated into the blankets. 

“Hi, George!” Clay’s voice was bright, but soft - a smile sent across states. He was slightly muffled, no doubt cuddled up in his own blankets.

George took a slow breath inward, “Hi,” and exhaled heavily. 

“Long day editing? You sound happy to see me.” 

“Things have been - ” George paused, “- consuming.” He squinted his eyes at the darkness on his screen. “I am happy to talk to you, but I can’t see you.” 

“Good.” Clay groaned, a dim light illuminating his face. “You are lucky my lamp is in reach.” His angled features were softened by the warm light, and he grinned. His blankets were pulled up to his neck, tucked underneath his head. Clay’s hands held the blanket lazily to his body. “I can’t see you though.”

“I can’t reach my lamp.” George said softly. His eyes studied the damp strands of hair hanging above Clay’s face. Clay’s face was gently flushed, like he had just come from a hot shower.

“Cuz you’re fuckin’ short.” Clay giggled. 

George laughed with him, dissolving into the warmth Clay provided. George’s shoulders relaxed into the mattress, and he massaged his clenched jaw. He listened intently as Clay fell down a rabbit trail, speaking miles a minute. Clay’s voice coursed through him like the resonance of an orchestra hums in his chest. They devoured the minutes and each other’s presence as the moon ascended.

Clay yawned, “How are you not falling asleep right now?”

“I am.” George stretched his arm over his head, “but I’m on your sleep schedule, so it’s not that bad.”

“Is that my fault?” Clay smirked sleepily, the half smile falling to a quarter smile.

George bit his lip, holding a smile, “Obviously, but I don’t mind.”

“I forget it’s so late for you when I text you,” Clay said, his voice growing softer, “because you always respond.”

“I would rather you wake me up every day for something stupid than me sleep through something important.” 

Clay giggled, his green eyes fluttering, struggling to stay open, “Coming from the idiot who slept through MCC and all the smp lore.”

“You are more important that those things, stupid.” George said, rolling his eyes, “Why else would you be able to override my Do Not Disturb?”

Clay smiled though his eyes were closed. “You think I am important,” he teased gently. “Then we are even because you are important to me too.” Clay’s voice faded, his breath falling steady.

George’s cheeks grew warm, and he licked his lips - honey. His eyes locked onto Clay’s exposed collarbone, his olive green shirt pulled downwards.  _ Would he be warm if I was -  _

Clay’s chest rose and fell slowly before the phone fell, filling George’s screen with darkness. He turned the volume up and returned to his back. Clay’s soft breathing and occasional snore soothed his anxious heart. George lay there until the crickets sang to the midnight sky and the stray dogs settled down from their evening brawls. His finger hovered over the “End Call” button, but George hesitated. Though awake, George rested in Clay’s company.

_ I will never hear the end of this if I don’t hang up. _

And George was left with nothing but the crickets to soothe his tightening chest. He reached over to the bedside table, taking two sleeping pills. 

His body fidgeted under the unfamiliar sheets - rough cotton covered with pills from years of use. The stars moved slowly across the sky, teasing George with their glitter and gleam, their untroubled journey.

George reached to his bedside table once more.


	7. Road Trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello :) As always, thank you so much for the support. School has recently started so uploads may take a bit longer!

Nick floated through the house hallways, collecting his last minute items. His toothbrush and retainer were tossed into the duffel bag of already folded clothing. George aroused from his light sleep as the opening and closing of the kitchen cabinets incorporated their way into his dreams. George rubbed his eyes, checking the time. 

_ 3:45 - I won’t be able to fall asleep in 15 minutes before my alarm so I might as well get up. _

George slid from the warm covers, and his toes met with the fuzzy carpet. He hadn’t noticed it the previous night and kneaded his feet into the plush ground. George cracked the window, a steady flow of air woke the reminder of his sleepiness. The sharp air inhabited his body, despite his sullen eyes and heavy shoulders, and he made his bed with a hop in his step.

_ Today, I meet Clay _ .

The corners of George’s mouth pulled and his heart raced, the butterflies in his stomach begged to be released. They banged against each other, fluttering around in the empty chamber with only bile to accompany them. The ground beneath George’s feet swayed and he pressed his hand against the edge of his bed. George squeezed his eyes shut, sipping in a slow deep breath. He eyed the bottle on his side table. 

_ Four might have been a bad idea. _

George opened the bottle, pouring the small blue pills on the smoothed comforter. He organized them into days - two for each day and a few extras. George exhaled in relief - there would be enough. After the moment had passed, George left the room.

A pile of food and snacks collected on the kitchen island. Nick bounced around the kitchen, gathering ingredients for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. 

“Can I help?”

Nick looked up, breaking his concentration on the deconstructed sandwiches that lay before him. “I am glad you are up!” Nick grinned, “I was about to wake you up with the Nick special.” He winked at George, and George shook his head, groaning. “Take these - ” Nick opened the freezer door, piling six large white buns into his arms. 

George set them on the counter, staring at them quizzically. 

“They are steamed buns with pork inside. Siopao asado.” Nick said, tossing George a roll of tinfoil. “My mom made them before she left because she wanted us to eat real food on the way there.” 

George looked at them apprehensively. Nick rolled his eyes and shook his head at him, “You will like them, idiot.” Nick returned to his peanut butter and jelly station. “Microwave each for a minute in a damp paper towel and then wrap each one with the foil. It will keep them warm.” 

As George heated up the buns, he got lost in the sounds and smells of the early morning. Though the kitchen was lit and warm and full of food aromas, the windows illustrated a still moment. The sun had yet to rise, but the crickets were now paired with the occasional car rumble. 

_ Where were they going? Who are they? Maybe it was a man speeding home from his night shift, anxious to slide in bed with his partner. Or a young mom and her newborn baby rushing to the hospital, the girl terrified of a cough her firstborn had woken up with. A group of college students driving home from a late party, passed out in the backseat. An old woman, driving across the city to visit her husband who lived in a nursing home.  _

Nick gently hummed a song George didn’t recognize, and as George pulled each bun from the microwave, he took a deep breath, eyes closed. The salty pork hidden beneath the sweet bread taunted him, and his mouth watered. He watched Nick from the corner of his eye. Nick bounced back and forth, dancing to the music he created. George smiled.  _ I am happy to be here with him. _

“I am - ” Both boys started simultaneously, stammering on top of each other.

“You go,” George insisted. “My thing can wait.”

“I just wanted to say that I am glad you decided to come.” Nick began packing all the food into a cooler. The pile of snacks and fresh fruits soon disappeared. “I hate flying, and I hate driving alone. You being here is a Godsend. What was your thing?”

George snorted, “Oh God. This is going to sound really fuckin’ soft.” He groaned, “I was about to say the same thing. I’ve been a mess for the past week because I am so nervous.” George paused, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “And I don’t feel super nervous right now.”

Nick laughed, “Are you in love with me George? Because it certainly sounds like it.”

George shook his head and rolled his eyes, “You are so stupid.”

Both the boys fell quiet, but were full of sleepy smiles. Their clumsy confessions of appreciation for the other were enough to fill the silence. They packed Nick’s car, and headed out on the road. One more car rumble for the Texas morning - two boys traveling across states to surprise their best friend.

George curled up in the passenger seat, wound in a fuzzy blanket borrowed from Nick’s guest room. His cheek pressed against the cool glass, and he clutched a steaming bun in his hands. The warmth from the hot pork fogged the window near his face. George took small bites, but the salty filling exploded on his tongue. As the sun rose, the Texas scenery overwhelmed him. The sun warmed the glass as it woke, and his eyes searched the grassy plains, hopping from bush to bush as they sped by. 

Swiftly, they passed into Louisiana. The dry, mountainous landscape flattened, and George watched as the lush hills and marshes ran into a vibrant green blur. London had been his home for far too long. He looked at Nick’s phone - 657 miles remaining. George sighed, shifting in the seat - not even halfway over. 

“Whatever happened to you and Maya?” Nick asked, pulling out of the gas station. The afternoon had finally arrived, and the roads were busier. 

George shrugged, “Nothing, literally.” He shifted in his seat, putting his shoe-less feet on the dashboard. “We talked seriously for a while after all the Twitter stuff happened.”

“Get your nasty feet off my car!” Nick interrupted, swatting the air towards George’s feet.

George rolled his eyes. “Please.  _ You _ get into this car, you shouldn’t worry about  _ my _ feet,” George quipped, a grin on his face, but he slid his feet from the dashboard. “Like I was saying - ” George looked at Nick, eyebrows raised. “She was planning a trip to London to see some old friends, and I offered that she stay with us for a weekend.”

“I remember that. ” Nick said, “She ended up staying for about four days. Didn’t you say that went well? Because it seems that you both cut things off soon after.”

“It did go well – If we were just good friends.”

“She didn’t like you?” Nick wiggled his eyebrows at George.

“You are stupid.” George shook his head, “I wasn’t really feeling it. I ended up turning down a lot of her advances.”

“I thought you liked her?”

“I thought I did too. She is very intelligent, pretty, talented, and she was funny. My mom loved her. Maya always made everyone feel comfortable, but I just couldn’t bring myself to kiss her.” George sighed, “Because I didn’t like her like that.”

“It seemed like you two really hit it off, ” Nick said, “But I suppose not. Have you ever had a girlfriend?”

“Not anything long term. At uni, I hooked up with two girls, but I wasn’t interested in being in a relationship,” George said, “I’ve never actually had a girlfriend.”

“And people think I am the player of the Dream Team.”

“To be fair, I act like a gentleman.”

“Oh and how do I act?!”

“Like a player.”

George pulled the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches from the cooler, satisfying his stomach, then settled back into the seat. He stared out the window, losing track of time in the passing neighborhoods and lakes. Soon enough, they were in Florida.

George’s phone buzzed - Clay, and his heart tightened. He looked at Nick’s phone - 335 miles. He was too close to ruin the secret now.

_ I can’t believe you hung up on me last night :( _

_ you should thank me. i saved our asses from a lifetime of humiliation. nick would have never let it go _

_ How would he have ever found out? _

_ don’t act like you wouldnt have told him _

_ I wouldn’t. Your secrets are safe with me _

George looked around anxiously, but Nick’s eyes were on the road and no one was behind him. The text made the butterflies in his stomach flutter, and George hesitated to respond. 

_ what secrets of mine are you keeping safe? _

_ Well that would ruin the point, wouldn’t it? _

George bit his lip. He could see Clay’s smirk, his mischievous laugh. George groaned under his breath, the butterflies flying wild inside him. His chest ached for more. 

_ perhaps but dont forget that you fell asleep first _

_ Then let me put you to sleep next time. _

_ good luck with that. even i can’t put myself to sleep. _

_ I have a few tricks up my sleeve. When we meet someday, you’ll see. _

_ promise? _

_ I’ve got nothing to lose. _

George sank into his chair, eyes fixated on the road. The butterflies and bile fought dangerously in his stomach like the war he fought in his mind. Clay’s words rang in his head. _I’ve got nothing to lose. But,_ _do I?_

George looked at Nick’s phone once more, the miles now in double digits. The afternoon had both risen and fallen in Florida. He put down the window, the humid air flushing out the inside of the car. The Florida air smelled like citrus and salt. George’s mouth watered for a cold orange, and he pulled one from the cooler. As he peeled the skin, citrus oils sprayed throughout the car but were whisked away by the wind from the open window. George ate an orange slice, the sour burst of juice satisfying his craving. The orange was broken between the two boys, slices being passed back and forth between George’s frequent glances at Google Maps.

_ What is Clay going to say when he sees me? God, I hope he will be happy to see me. Fuck. I will die if he doesn’t want me there. Will I hug him? Should I hug him? He might hug me. I hugged Maya when I met her, but she didn’t surprise me. Damn, maybe I should have let her kiss me. I let those other two girls kiss me. God, kissing girls is so fucking boring. You wouldn’t think people who look so pretty feel like kissing a concrete wall. _

“Nick, how do you know if you like someone?” George asked abruptly. Clay’s smile and laughter and banter floated in his mind, but not like birds sailing through the sky, rather like small boats battling a tumultuous ocean storm.

Nick stammered, “What do you mean?”

George rubbed his face with his hands, images of Maya and the girls from college swarmed his mind, Clay lingering behind. “I am unsure if I have ever liked anyone before, and you know you like Sunny. How do you know?” 

“Well - ” Nick paused, a soft smile peeking from the corner of his lips. “Fuck. What comes out of my mouth doesn’t leave this car because it may sound stupid.”

“Let’s just keep this whole conversation secret.” George laughed weakly.

“With Sunny, she just makes me happy. I feel light around her, like I can leave my worries at the door.” Nick shook his head with a grin, “and she is just so fucking cute.” Nick continued, the words falling from his lips like honey. “My heart feels like it will explode when I am with her. Butterflies are the best way of describing it, fluttering from my toes to my head. She makes me want to be a better me, you know?” Nick turned to look at George. “Have you ever felt butterflies?”

George’s eyes fluttered between the road and Nick’s phone, the trip mileage slowly decreasing. His body ached. He forced a laugh, taking a gulp of water to settle his stomach. “That’s the corniest thing I’ve ever heard you say.” George quieted. “But, I don’t think so… not with Maya. ”

“Then with who?”

Last night flew across his eyes. The blushed cheeks. Soft laughter. Tender whispers. George looked out the side window, “No one.” He chewed on his cheek - metal filled his mouth. 

The boys sat in silence, anxiously driving. The sky dimmed as evening crept upon them, and Nick groaned, “We are so fucking close! And my butt hurts so bad.”

George laughed weakly, nodding in agreement, but his mind ran wild. The car felt hot, and George’s eyes locked onto the phone. Miles turned into feet.

_ Hey Clay. Hi Clay. Surprise! Hello. Oh God, this is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.  _

“In 200 ft turn left and arrive at your destination.” Nick’s siri spoke loudly, interrupting the quiet music in the car. The voice pierced into George’s head and his heart pounded. They turned into the driveway - the house was yellow and quietly unassuming. 

When the car stopped, George couldn’t move. He held his breath.

“You better get out and knock on the door.” Nick said, getting up from the car, “because I’m sure he could hear the car.”

George swallowed hard and stood.

He walked forward, each step more laborious than the last, before he was square with the front door.

George knocked.

“I’m coming, Nick!” Clay yelled from inside, and George’s knees felt weak.

The door opened, and Clay stood in the doorway. He was tall, and his dirty blonde hair flopped lazily over his eyes. He smelled of cedar and rose and oranges. 

“Hi, Clay.” George stammered. 

“George?” Clay said, eyes wide.


	8. First Impressions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so late! This week has been crazy :) Hope you enjoy!

“Hi, Clay.” George stammered. 

“George?” Clay said, eyes wide. He whispered George’s name, the word falling from his mouth with still tenderness. 

George held his breath, the moment feeling like a thousand years and a nanosecond all at once. He searched Clay’s face nervously.  _ So close. So warm. So pretty.  _ But his feet were cemented to the ground, and George stood motionless, the weight of his empty stomach and sleepless nights hanging on his shoulders.

Clay leaped forward, pulling George into him. George gasped, his face now tangled in the fabric of Clay’s shirt. George closed his eyes and sank into the warmth of his chest, wrapping his arms around Clay’s back, the tensions of his body releasing him from their suffocating grasp. Clay’s gentle breathing made the butterflies in George’s stomach stir. Clay’s fingers wandered across George’s neck and ruffled his hair, leaving a tingling trail on George’s skin.

“What are you doing here?!” Clay said. His voice was muffled, his face burrowed into George’s hair. 

George grinned, “To see you.” His heartbeat quickened, lungs forgetting to breathe.

“Don’t forget about me!” Nick yelled, toting their suitcases. 

Clay released George from his warm chest, welcoming Nick. George stood, his cheeks flushed, his body tingling. 

“Dude, It’s so awesome to see you!” Nick exclaimed. The two boys hugged, rather, tackled each other. Their embrace resembled a roughhouse of two young boys, loudly laughing, pushing each other around, unable to contain their excitement. 

“You guys must be hungry.” Clay said grinning, ushering them into his home. His arms pulled both the boys into him, one on each side. George held Clay’s arm wrapped around his shoulders as they bounded inside.

The kitchen was loud, full of obnoxious laughter and yelling. Bright smiles plastered across each of the boy’s faces as they slipped seamlessly into a comfortable rhythm. As the sun set in Florida, the boys quieted, exhausted. 

“Is this the guest room?” Nick’s voice carried through the large house. The boys followed the sound. The room was small, but the light yellow walls alluded the opposite. Nick was sprawled onto the bed, suitcase already opened wide, belongings spilling from its sagging sides.

Clay laughed, “I hope it is clean enough for you.” He gestured to the clothing scattered on the floor, “Though, now it’s hard to notice all my hard work with this pig sty.” 

“You haven’t even showered.” George added.

“You both are so stupid.” Nick said, shaking his head with a grin on his face., “I’m on the outside of the blankets. Just because I’m a teenager doesn’t mean I’m disgusting.”

George laughed, but paused. “Where should I sleep?”

“You can stay in my room.” Clay said, leaving Nick in the guest room to make himself at home. 

George’s cheeks flushed, “Won’t that be strange - ” He hesitated, “to sleep together?”

“Not with me, idiot.” Clay laughed, shaking his head, “I can sleep on the couch.” They entered Clay’s bedroom, but Clay stopped at the door frame, turning to George. He leaned down, “Though, we can sleep together if you want.” He spoke softly, a smirk inches away from George’s face. 

George sucked in a breath quickly, eyes locked onto Clay’s. The butterflies in his stomach raged. “You would like that, wouldn’t you.” George quipped confidently, though his voice trembled.

Clay grinned, leaning closer to George’s face before turning back to the room. George took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes with his hands. “I can sleep on the couch,” George said, “I don’t want to make you move in your own house.”

Clay refused adamantly, “You are my guest.” He flopped onto his bed, stretching and nuzzling the blankets with his face. “Do you mind that these aren't washed?” 

George’s eyes traced Clay’s body intently, the boy’s broad shoulders and tall frame made the bed look small in comparison. George stammered, “No, don’t worry about it.”

The large windows let in the quickly fading rays of sunlight, warming the unmade bed Clay occupied. George collapsed into a yellow chair in the corner of the room. Clay stared at George quietly, in fact, they both searched each other’s faces, the boys relaxing into each other’s company. 

“You can use my shower.” Clay nodded lazily towards the bathroom attached to the room. “Unless you want to share with Nick.”

George wrinkled his nose, and Clay laughed softly. They both smiled, and George licked his lips - honey.

“I think I am going to shower, actually.” Clay said. “You can put all your clothing into the bottom two drawers of my dresser. Just stuff all my clothes into the top two.”

Clay rolled off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. Though it had no door, the shower was hidden from where George sat. 

The sound of the shower drowned out George’s groans. He slid from the chair onto the ground, burying his face into the soft blankets hanging from Clay’s bed. 

_ Oh, God. I don’t feel right. _

He turned back to the dresser with a sharp breath, exhaling forcefully. George opened Clay’s drawers. The clothing was folded neatly, like no one had touched the drawer since it had been filled. George laughed under his breath, his own clothes thrown haphazardly into his suitcase. As George moved the shirts and sweats from the bottom two drawers, he stopped. The familiar fabric of an olive green shirt lay gently in his hands.

George turned to look at Clay’s bed, and his heart pounded. George hesitated, eyes flickering to the bathroom entrance, the shower still running. He rubbed the worn shirt with his thumbs before bringing it up to his face. George pressed the cool fabric against his lips, and the scent of oranges and roses filled his nose. His shoulders softened, and George sighed heavily.

The shower turned off, and George jerked the shirt away from his face, heat rising to his cheeks.

_ What did I just do? Why the fuck did I do that? _

“George?” Clay called.

George stammered, “Yeah?”

“I am glad you are here.” George swallowed, relaxing against Clay’s bed. Before he could respond, Clay continued. “Not to say I wasn’t excited to spend time with Nick, but you know - ” Clay paused, and George closed his eyes, letting the words swirl around his head. “- you are my best friend.”

George laughed softly, “It was so fucking hard to keep the secret from you.” 

“How long did you have this planned?”

“Weeks.” George relaxed his arms, his fingers kneading the soft carpet. “From when Nick told you he could come. I flew into Housten two days ago, and Nick and I drove all today.”

“You were at Nick’s house when we called?” George mumbled in agreement, sighing heavily. Clay’s voice floated into the room. It sounded different in person, almost softer.

“No wonder you looked so tired,” Clay continued, “and I knew you wouldn’t be editing.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” George protested, turning to look at the bathroom doorway, and rested his chin on the comforter. 

“You didn’t procrastinate enough.” Clay emerged from the bathroom, ruffling his wet hair with a towel. A pale blue shirt hung loose from his shoulders, tucked messily into a long pair of plaid pajama pants. 

George felt his face grow hot, but he forced a laugh. 

Clay looked at George with eyebrows raised, “I am giving up my bed for you - You can’t judge me for what I wear to bed.”

“I’m not judging.” George stood, sitting on the edge of the bed in front of Clay. “It’s cute.”

Clay rolled his eyes, but, for a moment, George thought he was blushing. Clay tossed the damp towel back into the bathroom. He looked at George, then laughed, shaking his head, “I can’t believe you are here.”

Clay reached out his hand to George’s face. George took a quick breath, his cheek tingling, but Clay touched George’s shoulder instead. He pulled George into a hug but lost his footing, and both boys tumbled onto the bed.

“Oh, God” Clay laughed, his face buried in his blankets, “I’m sorry.” 

George’s heart beat against Clay’s chest before Clay propped himself up, their faces inches from each other. 

“After all that talk about cuddling,” George quipped, “You just couldn’t help yourself,” but George stared at Clay’s eyes, a swirling pool of gold and green. He felt his head sunk in the blankets under him, Clay’s arms on either side of his body. Clay seemed to blink slowly, his long eyelashes fluttering. George’s memories tugged on him.

In the next second, Clay and George were both standing. They spoke, but the words sounded muffled, and George couldn’t remember what was said.

And he was alone in the bedroom.

George collapsed back onto the bed and closed his eyes.

The heat of Clay’s body returned, but when his eyes opened, it was someone else.

_ James. _

“JAMES!” George yelled, gently ramming his shoulder into the blonde-haired boy, “That’s basically cheating.”

“You are just mad because I’m beating you.” James said between giggles.

The boys furiously pressed buttons on their Nintendos, their eyes glued onto the screens as they raced around the colorful tracks. Their shoulders were pressed firmly against each other, and both their lanky adolescent bodies sunk in a large beanbag. George relaxed into the warmth of James’ body, his left arm tingling against his friend’s right. 

“Boys!” George’s mom yelled from the first floor, “ Come get some dinner!”

“Okay!” They yelled simultaneously, but both stayed focused on the competition at hand, faced contorted in concentration.

“Yes!!” James exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air, “Get destroyed, George.” 

George yelled in frustration, though a grin was plastered on his face. “We can’t play rainbow road anymore. I can’t see the bananas on the floor.”

“You can’t blame your color blindness on everything! You have lost three out of four times this week - I think you just suck.” James grabbed George’s arm, gently shaking him back and forth. “And you are going to lose again tomorrow after school.” His face was flushed, and he stuck a tongue out at George.

George’s nose crinkled in protest, the boys spitting playful roasts back and forth. His own cheeks grew warm.

“You couldn’t beat me in anything!” James taunted.

George raised his eyebrows, and flipped himself on top of James. James was pressed into the soft beanbag, his wrists held by George’s hands. George’s heart pounded, but he grinned. 

They both giggled. James fought briefly, but relaxed into the beanbag and locked eyes with George. “Okay, maybe you can beat me in something.” James’s voice was now soft, a whisper as their bodies held still centimeters apart. 

George’s breath hitched. He should get off James, but he didn’t. 

They took heavy, slow breaths.

James’s hands reached to touch George’s cheeks gingerly, and their lips met.

George’s heart pounded from his chest, butterflies bursting out of him. He fell gently onto James, hands desperately searching for warmth. They dissolved into the tender moment, unwilling to pull away. George’s arm wrapped around James’s back, fingers exploring his soft skin. He tasted honey.

“Boys!”

George gasped, and James scrambled from under him. The sharp, cool air replaced the warmth of soft lips and hands. The boys stood fixed, feet glued to the carpet. Their eyes were wide, and they breathed uneasily. A sinking sickness replaced the butterflies in George’s stomach. 

“Oh God.” James mumbled, “I’m sorry.” He bolted out the door and down the steps. George’s legs felt weak, but his tips tingled. 

_ Fuck. _

George groaned, gripping fistfuls of Clay’s blankets. 

_ Fuck. fuck. fuck. _

George stumbled across the room, finding himself under the hot water of the shower. He took shallow breaths, and his jaw clenched tightly. Once more, his evening slipped into the routine that tormented his exhausted body, and George collapsed into bed in a daze. 


End file.
